


And We'll be Birds

by AvaCelt



Category: Gintama
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-29 02:43:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6355705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaCelt/pseuds/AvaCelt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gintoki knows a blade through the heart equals instant death, but if he's dead, then who's massaging his scalp and telling him that everything will be alright?</p>
            </blockquote>





	And We'll be Birds

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my friend, [Ferret](http://sakata-shiroyasha.tumblr.com/). Originally posted on my [Tumblr writing blog](http://victorsandvanquishers.tumblr.com/post/141647644660/short-request-fic) and now being archived here for the A03 writing community.
> 
> Title from "Birds" by Coldplay. Can be listened to here [(x)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vqOnUB9gnDM).

Gintoki's eyes take a few seconds to get used to the light, but once they do, he realizes he's back home. Normally, that would be a good thing, but he remembers with startling clarity that a blade through the heart should have taken him to hell, not home.

But here is.

“You're not dead, but you might as well be,” someone grunts next to him. Gintoki painstakingly turns his head to the right and spots the creature next to him. It has red hair, a shade darker than Kagura's, with features borrowed from a dead woman and Umibozu.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?” He croaks at Kamui, who fiddles with a Gameboy.

“I've been kidnapped,” he snips back scathingly. Then he pouts and sighs. “But Shinsuke won't rescue me until I've completely healed. 'Tis my life.”

Gintoki, as per usual, is more bored than disgusted, so he turns to the other creature, the one breathing deeply on his right. Of course it's Oboro.

“I'm in hell,” Gintoki realizes. “This is hell.”

“Gintoki, don't be rude,” Shouyou tuts, wrapping his knuckles on Gintoki's forehead before fluffing his pillow. Gintoki blinks and then bursts into a hollow bout of laughter.

“You're dead,” he says out loud, “and so am I. Hell's too bright, Shouyou. I wish it were a little darker.”

“Listen at this idiot, Shinpachi,” Kagura screeches from somewhere outside his door. “We save his life and bring him home, and he calls it hell! I'm calling the hag! If he can disrespect the snackhouse, then he can pay rent!”

Gintoki can hear Shinpachi's lament even with all the medicine running through veins and Kamui's incessant tapping of the Gameboy.

“He doesn't have any money left, Kagura-chan, we spent everything he had on food and keeping your brother locked in his room.”

“We should just sedate him next time,” Kagura whispers, though it's not really a whisper because the whole house hears her.

“He'll try to kill you again, Kagura-chan,” Shinpachi pleads through the door.

“I'll just shave his head the next time he tries,” Kagura promises.

Next to Gintoki, Kamui chokes on air and throws a betrayed look at the sliding door before huffing and pulling the covers over his head. Oboro still sleeps, as if careless of the world's workings, lost in his own hopes and dreams while Gintoki tries to make sense of the absolute mess his life has become.

“Why hell, Gintoki?” Shouyou asks, threading his soft fingers through his curly white hair.

“Because you put a sword through my heart... and because I let you,” Gintoki answers truthfully. “Shouldn't we be dead, Shouyou?”

“Death isn't always the answer, Gintoki,” Shouyou tells him. “You know that. You lived on after I died once, and I knew you could do it again.”

“But we died,” Gintoki whispers tiredly.

“Maybe in some other world,” Shouyou assures him. “But in this one, you live. They live. Everyone lives.”

“Everyone lives,” Gintoki repeats after Shouyou, slipping his eyes shut and escaping into a dreamless sleep.

When he wakes up again, it seems a lot more like hell. His room is dark, but the windows are open. There's a light rain and the streetlights are still on, so when Gintoki sits up, he sees bodies surrounding his own.

If this was hell, they'd all be dead, but it's not hell and they're not dead. Kagura's curled next to Kamui, with Sadaharu sleeping mere inches away. Oboro still sleeps deeply, but this time, Shinpachi's between Gintoki and the assassin. At the window stands Shouyou, gazing out into the streets, one arm outstretched towards the rain.

“What kind of hell is this?” Gintoki asks quietly, as not to wake the sleeping figures.

“The kind you deserve,” Shouyou chuckles softly.

“You're alive.”

Shouyou turns around, his dark gold hair framing his smiling visage, ageless and unwavering after all these years. “Surprised?”

Gintoki picks his nose with his pinky. “I think I'm dead.”

Shouyou shrugs, “maybe.”

Gintoki wipes the boogers on Kamui's futon cover, then looks over to Shouyou's breathing figure. “It's not so bad.”

“I'm glad you think that way. It would be a shame if you didn't.”

“Why?”

“Because it's real, Gintoki.”

“Real?”

Shouyou tiptoes around the sleeping figures and the mess of futons until he's behind Gintoki. Gintoki lays his head down, but this time, it's on Shouyou's lap instead of a pillow. Shouyou pats his fluffy hair and smiles brightly. “Am I real now?”

Gintoki begins to drift off when Shouyou starts to hum a tune Gintoki remembers from his childhood. By the time the song is over, Gintoki's fast asleep.

“Am I real, Gintoki?” Shouyou asks again.

Gintoki wrinkles his nose and snores in response, and when the sun comes up, Gintoki wakes up to a room bustling with family and friends, and Gintoki things- yeah. This is real.


End file.
